


The Roots of Freedom

by WordsmithingArtist



Series: Universes Unfolding [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Almost), (anymore), BAMF Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bucky Barnes and the 21st Century, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:01:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithingArtist/pseuds/WordsmithingArtist
Summary: Identity and history are lost when the Winter Soldier is reborn in an icy ravine. Now he is the Fist of Hydra. But fists don’t have opinions or emotions. How can Hydra’s commands override them? The truth: they can’t.
Series: Universes Unfolding [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745947
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Roots of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> This is another work that I wrote ages ago and have now decided to post here. This is one of the ones I'm most proud about and I hope you guys enjoy it too. 
> 
> (There are more notes at the end because I don't want to spoil anything)

**1950**

Red hair floats around the child’s face as she ducks and twists, dancing around all attacks. The dance ends with her opponent bodily thrown to the floor. A muted cry escapes, drawing the attention of the ever-watching handlers...and the girls’ silent instructor. Weakness is not tolerated in a future Widow, the Asset knows.

It sends a glare at the fallen girl, the expression only easing when it sees the smug look in Romanava’s eyes. A nearly irrepressible urge to ruffle her hair weighs heavily somewhere inside it. But, no, a weapon doesn’t express fondness, doesn’t feel the screaming urge to  _ protect, protect, PROTECT! _

The Asset does not care. It does not care. Weapons cannot care. Its orders were to train the girls, so it does. It signals for another girl to face Romanova….

(There’s a soft unfurling confusion inside, stronger than an urge to ruffle hair. Romanova has too many syllables. Her face is too narrow, too dark, too cold and broken. Not Romanova, but another. R-something….R--------a…. But the something is silenced, never really there at all, and is gone)

A thud draws its attention. Roma-Natalia emerges victor yet again and it cannot help the praise that leaves its lips: “ хорошо сделанный маленький танцор.”

* * *

**Five Months Later…**

The Asset slips quietly into the empty room: Natalia’s room. It—he, it’s a he now—knows where the loose floorboard is, the one with everything the girl wishes to hide from her superiors. But he has long since stopped being just her superior, he is the brother she never thought to wish for. Both so starved for honest human interaction in which they aren’t a tool to be used. She’s even given him a name: Yasha. 

There is a swooping in his gut he can now name as sorrow. It sinks deep into his lungs, his bones. 

Her training with him ends in a week. And that means forgetting. He is always forgotten, or perhaps he is always forgetting. How he knows this is a mystery, something he cannot explain. That knowing is always there, some hidden part of him deep in the roots of his soul that dreads the ending of any mission and the ever-waiting chair. So he slips the note under the dark and musty floorboards, hoping that she’s willing to listen, willing to save him. His breath freezes and the swooping does not leave.

* * *

**1957**

It awakes. Scientists move about, examining, making sure the weapon is ready for duty. It awaits its orders—unmoving. The gear is brought out, perfectly maintained, and without thought or hesitation, it slips on the lightweight shirt, the thick vest, the heavy boots. Then comes the mask, snug and warm, smelling of wood polish….

...like the studio…

...tiny figures on pointed toes…

...bright red hair…

... _ Natalia! _

It straightens to attention, eyes in the distance, refusing to let the onslaught of memories show. It—he, he is a he?—will be a slave no more. He will gain his freedom. Natalia too, if she is willing. But first, what year is it?

It is easy to slip funds from his current handler. The man is too confident in the idea that the Winter Soldier only does what he is told. A moment of distraction and the money is transferred and hidden away. He remains motionless and no one notices.

It is just as easy to slip away after the mission is completed, into the darkness without checking in. In the work of a few hours, he has the heartfelt promises of a terrified con artist and a forged ID bearing the name Yasha Rasputin. 

Yasha’s feet itch to run, to hide, to never have to follow another command again. But not yet. Hydra will track him down so fast that freedom would only be a glimpse, wrenched out of his grasp before he could even feel a thing. He has patience—he has to have patience—he can play the long game.

* * *

**1962**

The smell of polish revives the Asset yet again. This time the mission leaves him by himself for a week, and he spends it efficiently. Using stolen cash, he has a post office box in Hungary rented for the next decade. The name, based on another fake ID, is Sebestyen Zentai. The remaining funds are invested in a brilliant American inventor.

* * *

**1965**

This time he doesn’t need stolen cash to continue his plan...Stark’s company pays excellent dividends into the bank account he had set up last time. Another place, a new ID: Dieter Jung. He also invests in BMW to...what was the phrase...not put chickens in a basket?

* * *

**1972**

Despite the years and the missions that end in nothing but smoke and blood, it’s funny how the smell of polish doesn’t seem to fade—red hair and a name that’s too long and a hidden floorboard with secrets and treasures and a promise of freedom if he can only find her again and a cold and broken face that’s seen too much, just like his. It’s been a while since he’s been able to work around his handlers, but here in Britain, he’s finally done it again. His name is Brennan Wickham now.

He buys a pub from a family who have fallen on hard times, but he leaves them in charge of it. After all, it’s their legacy; he’s only helping them foster it. If it gives him a place to store things, all the better.

* * *

**1979**

Yasha thinks his handlers might be getting suspicious. He’s left alone much less than he used to be, so now is the waiting game. Nevertheless, he manages to get a letter sent out under the name of Jung, asking for specially designed metalwork.

* * *

**1984**

He’s in America again. Normally they don’t let him alone here, but he’s got four hours right now. Following the instructions of a silver-haired homeless man, he hunts down a back-alley medical room. It’s one that caters mostly to desperate women, but he’s able to get someone to draw liquid bone marrow and store it for him. If his handler wonders at his lack of normal functioning, nothing is said. After all, his skin has already healed from the needle…

* * *

**1995**

The mask smells only faintly of polish now, and he wonders. Wonders why the scent has lasted so long, and wonders why it has begun to fade so quickly now. It’s a good thing that his mind subconsciously resets now when wearing the mask, otherwise he’d be in trouble.

As it is, he only needs the perfect assignment to end this. He’s got five safe houses, ten bank accounts, two businesses, eight emails, fourteen P.O. boxes, and twenty names. He’s got a plan, he’s got the means, and now all he needs is the right moment.

* * *

**1998**

It occurs to him that Hydra might have a way to track him if he leaves. Their tech is certainly good enough for it and they’re intelligent enough to use any means necessary to keep him. But if they have, why haven’t they noticed his side project already? Only one way to check.

It’s not hard to find a teen willing to do it. Anyone talented enough to hack the Bank of Iceland is good enough to take a look at his arm. The combination of threats, large sums of cash, and a promise to let him scan some of the arm’s tech gets Yasha an off switch on the tracker and instructions on how to remove it when he’s ready. 

(He ignores the triumphant “Age of the geek, baby!” )

The bargain complete, he returns to his handlers, wrestling down the fury and desperation for freedom. He’s so close. Just a little longer yet. Patience. He has to have patience. He can wait. He will wait.

* * *

**2004**

His orders: to destroy an entire facility. Blow it up. Frame Sarkany Technologia. One week.

He’s given his freedom and that is their mistake. With some quick arrangement, a few artistic pyrotechnics, and both the metal pieces and the bone marrow, he leaves a fiery headstone for the Winter Soldier. Now it’s time for another to take his place.

**Author's Note:**

> So, there you have it. This series is inspired by the story “Bucky Barnes, Private Investigator” by Songbird’s Tune on Fanfiction.net, which works on the premise that Bucky escaped Hydra and made a life for himself as a private investigator. It made me wonder how he got free. Thus this story.
> 
> It’s kind of gained a life of its own now. Imagine a series shaped like a tree and you’ll get a good idea of how vast this is. Roots of Freedom is one of two base stories that all the others will be attached to. However, each story after these two (which I call branches) act as individual continuations of the base. In fact, it’s impossible for most of them to coincide with each other. Don’t worry, each story will have an intro telling you which ones are compatible with it and which ones you have to read for it to make sense. 
> 
> Now, on to headcannons: 
> 
> First, I’m going with the headcannon that Bucky had a younger sister named Rebecca (is this canon?). Hence the name that starts with R and ends with a, but is a syllable too long. 
> 
> Second, the ages of the characters are a little skewed. I don’t believe that Natalia was a young girl when Bucky trained her, and I know her birthday is in the 20s. But I’m messing with the timing of a bunch of events, so why not this? There are other ages that will be altered in future stories, but those will be clearer when and where it’s taking place.
> 
> Translations and Name Meanings:
> 
> хорошо сделанный маленький танцор : Well done, little dancer.  
> Yasha Rasputin: James and Crossroads  
> Sebestyen Zentai: Actually, I just thought it would be funny to put a variant of the actor’s name in here. But Zentai refers to coming from a certain part of Hungary (I don’t remember where).  
> Dieter Jung: Warrior of the people and Young  
> Brennan Wickham: Of Braenon and Village  
> Sarkany Technologia: Dragon Technology
> 
> Also, bonus points to the first person to find the cameos in this story (there are two!). I’ll give you a small spoiler for the series if you figure them out (one is really obvious if you know the person, but you might be able to figure it out without knowing too much about them).


End file.
